It’s been a busy few weeks for us between job searching for Jake and writing research/work for me. I’m writing some articles for local magazines and have a few short stories being prepped for submission, and Jake has done almost 40 job applications.

Keeping so busy has helped us maintain a relatively normal routine, but for Memorial Day we escaped the routine and drove up north to the coast with some dear friends of ours.

Having two nature-focused vacations in May was a great blessing. The sea air was a balm to our souls, the company bolstered our spirits, and there’s not many things cuter than watching kids run and play so hard they collapse every night.

It was a quiet vacation. We went for delightful walks to the beach, watched the sunset on the ocean, explored the town, visited thrift stores, read books, and did numerous puzzles. Both my mom and I got very excited over thrift store book hauls, and I got to visit a local yarn store (which is always a highlight for me). I got a sock yarn to commemorate this vacation — my favorite type of souvenir.

I cast on a hat for Bea with a skein of my handspun on the drive up, and I finished it over the weekend. It’s the Traveler Hat by Andrea Mowry, and I really enjoyed knitting it. Michael even helped me do a few stitches! Every time Bea wears it, I’ll remember this lovely vacation.

We also got to visit Glass Beach, which was a bucket list item for my mom. The main beach was quite disappointing: so many people were (illegally) gathering glass from the sand, and it was so combed over it looked like a regular beach. We found a side beach nearby that had been treated more respectfully, and it was beautiful. The sound of the waves crashing over the glass pebbles was like music — a rushing swell, crescendoing and fading.

Watching Michael run and play with the other kids on the trip really opened my eyes to how much he’s grown and matured this year. He’s so big, and so inquisitive, and so kind hearted. Yes, he’s also impulsive and active and three years old — but when we’re cuddling or talking together, sometimes I catch glimpses of him as a teenager or an adult, and I realize how quickly this sweet time is going by.

Beatrice has also had a growth spurt: she’s started to run whenever she can, despite not being fully steady on her feet. She delights in wearing shoes (especially her sparkly Crocs) and tries on anyone’s shoes that are left unattended. She loves singing, playing with water, and stealing her brother’s snacks and toys at any given opportunity.

The Northern California coast is one of my favorite places in the whole world. It’s where Jake and I spent both our honeymoon and several vacations pre-kids, and it was so sweet to bring them to the rocky beaches and foggy forests we love.

And now we’re back home, continuing on with the day-to-day. We’re weathering a heatwave of 100+ degree temperatures this weekend, but the rest of June is looking less oppressive. All around us the cherry orchards are ripening, and due to the kindness of our neighbors we’ve been able to glean from some of the trees. My children have turned into little cherry fairies, fingers and mouths constantly stained, spitting pits joyfully into the bushes.

We’ve been playing outdoors in the mornings, sitting in the shade and coloring together with crayons on the large drawing pad. The garden is flourishing, and I’ve already harvested three zucchini from my one plant. My tomatoes, yellow squash, and peppers seem to be thriving as well.

As I’ve said before, making is one of the ways I deal with stress…so my hands have been quite busy lately. I finished a row of my quilt top (sewn together while Jake did bathtimes), added some inches to my Ranunculus sweater and finished a few baby bonnets (knitted during Bea’s naps/quiet times), and began plying a vibrant worsted weight handspun (spun in the evenings after bedtime).

We continue to ask for your prayers as we navigate the unknown and the job search in a pretty crazy market. I’ve been learning the lesson that asking for help isn’t a weakness: it’s a strength. We’ve been leaning on our family and church community. I’ve had phone calls and dinners with friends where they generously listen to me vent my anxieties. I’ve increased my medication dosage to help me better cope with some of the stresses. And I’ve had to learn none of that is a sign of weakness. I think it will be a constant lesson I will revisit throughout my life.

The last few weeks haven’t been easy, but they’ve still been full of little glimmers of joy. And I’m so grateful for the support and help we’ve received which makes those glimmers easier to see.

May has been an eventful month for our family. The first week of May, PwC laid off 1500 of its US employees, citing “market alignment” as the reason. Unfortunately, Jake was one of them. His team was one of the hardest hit, and so his 8 years of loyal employment came to a very unexpected and unceremonious end.

It unsettled us more than we would’ve expected, mostly because of how out of the blue and unjust it felt. As a dear friend of mine said, “The ugliness of the machine world embedded in the hearts of men came right up to your door”. We spent the week processing, grieving, venting, and planning next steps. We appreciate your prayers as we continue discerning what’s next for our little family.

But there is only so much one can do directly after something like this, and our planned camping trip over Mother’s Day weekend ended up being very providential: an escape from cell service and our uprooted routines, and a retreat to the beauty of God’s creation and a reminder of His promises.

Our trip started with a bang: the trailer tire exploding on the freeway. Between changing tires and replacing spares through two different tire shops, it added an extra three hours to the trip — but we made it to the mountains before sunset. We even got our preferred campsite despite the delay.

And it was so good. If you’ve never visited Sequoia/Kings Canyon National Forest/Park, all I can say is: please visit at least once. It’s breathtaking. The National Parks truly are one of the best things about the United States.

Camping for us isn’t as much about “doing things” as getting away from the demands of technology and civilization. We still took walks and visited landmarks, but our main goal was just simply existing in the beauty and letting it soak into us and heal us.

Jake and the kids walked uncounted miles around the small campground loop, Bea in the stroller and Michael on his balance bike. He got incredibly good at it and is excited to soon upgrade to a pedal bike.

We spent an afternoon lakeside, reading, skipping stones, tossing sticks and rocks, and building sandcastles. Michael got to see fish and water snakes and explore further upriver with me and grandpa.

In the evenings, when the kids slept, we played Euchre and Spit with decks of cards, keeping the curious moths away from our beers. Jake and I also played several games of Othello, one of our nightly favorites.

Beatrice’s language skills exploded over the few days we were gone: she now says “cheese!” whenever you take her photo, and points and says “please” when she wants something. She also gives kisses with a big “mwah!” and when you say “Ready, Set…” she finishes with an enthusiastic “GO!”.

While Bea, Jake, and I napped and stayed with the dogs (yes, we brought all three of the dogs with us), my parents took Michael to see the largest living tree in the world. They took some beautiful pictures to share the experience with us. I can’t believe how old Michael looks — it seems like only yesterday he was a tiny baby.

There is something so healing about the sound of wind through the pine trees and eagles calling in the distance. Watching our children play in frigid lake water and run barefoot through the forest, eating meals cooked outdoors together, examining bugs and pinecones under magnifying glasses, seeing the stars unpolluted by fluorescent light, and playing cards by lantern’s glow — all these things brought us back to what’s truly important.

And now, rejuvenated by our mountain retreat, we are home and maintaining the homestead routine as we move forward with the job search. Despite picking up on our anxiety at the unknown, the kids are doing well, full of life and laughter. We have a fantastic community surrounding and rallying around us. Our church, our friends, our family — despite the difficult circumstances, we’ve never felt less alone.

The words of Dame Julian of Norwich keep coming to me, as fresh as the mountain breeze, countering my desire for control and certainty and the anxiety that whirls around both:

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

Spring has fully arrived and Beatrice has put it in her step: she has finally decided that walking suits her. She toddles everywhere very excitedly, though she often sits down whenever Michael comes near — preemptively making sure she doesn’t get bowled over by his exuberance. It’s been so sweet watching her grow. She is such a joy.

Michael, too, seems to have gone through a spring growth spurt. He’s grown more inquisitive and articulate, constantly wanting to know how things work and why things are the way they are. He’s currently trying to figure out knock-knock jokes, but he doesn’t quite have the hang of it. Right now, they go like this:

Michael: Knock knock!

Me: Who’s there?

Michael: Orange!

Me: Orange who?

Michael: OWL!! *laughing uproariously*

It’s a joke half inspired by an episode of Little Bear and half inspired by his own goofy sense of humor.

We’ve had some other cute toddlerisms recently:

Michael calls above the torso “upper body” and below the torso “downer body”

Michael: I love you!

Jake: I love you more!

Michael: I love you SIX!

Michael: I love making friends! I’m good at making friends! Mama, I can teach YOU how!

My brother was unexpectedly in town last week for twenty-four hours after touring grad schools in our state, and the kids were so delighted to see him.

Michael especially loved playing on the trampoline with his uncle/godfather. We had a great weekend of quality family time.

In household news, I successfully made (and have kept alive!) a sourdough starter. In the past when I’d tried to make a starter or been given one, I promptly killed it. But it’s been a month of success with this one! I must admit, I’m a little too absent-minded to be any good at bread-making. This might make sourdough enthusiasts cringe, but I don’t measure when I feed my starter: I just add flour and water until it looks like thick pancake batter. I’ve only made one loaf of bread so far, and it was adequate enough, but I have used lots of the discard to make crackers. The kids love them, they’re super easy to make, and they’re absolutely delicious topped with Trader Joe’s Green Goddess seasoning and eaten with hummus.

I’ve been on a sewing spree after months of not touching my machine. Again, I blame spring: I usually get bitten by the sewing bug around April. I made my dress for Pascha: I have no pictures of me wearing it yet, as I want to take some nice ones on Pascha. But I’m very proud of it and can’t wait to show it off.

One of my favorite pattern designers released a free laptop sleeve. I’ve needed one for ages, and had almost everything I needed to make one in my stash.

I hand-quilted the front and back and sewed it together in an afternoon during Bea’s nap. It was such a delight to make, even though it was my first time ever sewing with zippers. It’s a little wonky, but that’s the joy of handmade things, isn’t it?

Now that we’re not sick and we’ve taken intentional steps to reduce stress in our family life, we’ve been spending a lot more time outdoors. It’s been so good for our collective health (mental and physical). Like we used to do when Michael was a baby, I spread a blanket out in the shade of the orange tree in the mid afternoon. I bring snacks and books, and we play. Michael rides his balance bike, Bea climbs around and chases the dogs, and I read or knit or kick the soccer ball with Michael.

I’ve been thinking lately on the importance of playtime.

As a culture, we’ve lost the concept of play and good leisure time: everything must be productive or lucrative in some material sense. Hobbies become side-hustles. Having a healthy work-life balance negatively impacts utilization metrics at work. Sleeplessness and exhaustion are badges of merit. And don’t get me started on the loss of play and leisure time in the average child’s school life.

I’m the first to admit I care much too much about productivity. But both becoming a parent and reading about childhood development have convicted me about this. Play is crucial for children: there’s so much research that supports this. We need to play. It’s good for us — and not just for kids, but for adults too.

I know my kids watch everything I do (Lord have mercy). They look to me and to Jake for how to live their lives. So I really want them to see US play too. So we’ve been trying, very imperfectly, to play more. To open more space in our days for doing “nothing”, and letting the kids have those moments of boredom that lead to some of the most golden playtimes.

And of course, it’s led to me renewing my age-old struggle against screen time, finding that balance between ideals and reality. I’m sure I’ll be doing it all my life. If I had more brainpower I’d incorporate Aristotle and his concept of the virtuous mean into this blog post somehow, but instead…I’ll go play with my kids.

One of my favorite times of year is this brief moment in February when the almond trees explode into bloom, showering a carpet of white petals down our street and turning bare stick orchards into fairy wonderlands. With the occasional storm looming dark blue-black on the horizon, the flowers are often a striking contrast against the sky. Soft petals spreading against frost and wind and rain, trees blooming in spite of the storms: I’m in awe of the joyful defiance of life.

We’re mostly healthy after the storm of illnesses that kept us down for most of January. We’re now preparing for the season of Lent as it fast approaches. Given I’m still breastfeeding Beatrice and Michael is just 3, we’re taking an amended approach to Eastern Orthodox fasting this Lent — no meat or alcohol, but keeping dairy and oil. I’m also taking a break from social media (Instagram, etc) though I’ll continue writing blog posts. I appreciate the intentionality fasting requires of me: I’ve learned to meal plan for the entire week and use up leftovers in other meals. I’m hoping the social media fast also helps me prioritize intentionality in my leisure time, too.

I took advantage of our good weather and good health over the past week to work in our garden. The crabgrass had infested all the beds over winter, and it was satisfying but backbreaking work to clear it out. I also hauled a cubic yard of compost into the cleared beds to get the soil nice and ready for planting. I still have 1.5 beds to weed and one more cubic yard of compost to shovel, but all the rest are clear and ready for plants.

We now have strawberries and herbs planted as well as sunflowers and peas. I’m also trying to start a berry patch with blackberries and raspberries and planted some flower seeds to attract pollinators. We also found some frogs hiding in the beds: I’m hoping to create more spaces for them to live comfortably, while also growing and maintaining an organized garden.

Jake has been working on figuring out more efficient irrigation for our raised beds and I’ve been researching mulching methods and natural pest control, so I’m hoping we will have more success in the garden this summer. I always get excited in the spring and make grand plans, but I know that the intense heat of summer often leads to seasonal depression for me: I’m hopeful my work up front will help us have a successful garden despite heat waves and being stuck indoors during the worst of it.

Michael and Beatrice have both been enjoying the time outside. Bea still refuses to walk unless forced to, preferring to crawl everywhere at the speed of lightning. She has also learned to click her tongue and alternates between that and screeching as her main methods of expressing excitement. Our house is quite loud, quite often. I’ve taken to wearing earplugs during the worst of it.

Michael is quite the helper in the garden: he helped me shovel compost into the wheelbarrow and was my official snail hunter, helping me squish them or throw them over our fence. He also helped Jake uproot some dead trees and plant some replacements, as well as add more boards to our garden fence. It’s bittersweet to watch him grow from toddler to preschooler: it seems like yesterday he was a mischievous baby, and now he’s a rambunctious and inquisitive little boy. I’m in awe of his fearlessness, his creativity, and his kind heart.

Felix has made himself right at home: he’s gone from quiet and shut down to a boisterous, happy, noisy puppy. His wounds are healing well, and we’re scheduled for a vet visit soon to make sure he’s up to date on his shots.

He stays mostly at my parents’ house — they currently have more bandwidth to deal with all the training a puppy requires. However, on weekends he often comes over to play in our garden or chill in our living room. Michael adores him wholeheartedly. Bea is a little wary of him, given he’s a gangly pup who tends to knock her over accidentally.

I still haven’t finished any of my numerous knitting projects, but I’ve made progress! I’m focusing mostly on my homespun Traveler Cowl and my easy shawl project. I love the adventure of using handspun yarn: I’m never quite sure what it will look like until I’ve knit it. The easy shawl has grown enormously, and I still have two more sections to go. It’s going to be a delightfully large and cozy wrap when it’s finished.

The rising prices in the grocery stores have got me prioritizing food preservation and homemade snacks. I’ve been making whole wheat pita to eat with hummus for snacks and curry for dinner, and molasses brown bread for breakfasts. I’m slowly working through the stuff we have in our freezer — next, I have 24 cups of frozen strawberries to jam, and four gallon bags of frozen homegrown tomatoes to can.

I must admit, things outside my sphere of influence have been overwhelming and concerning on many levels. It’s been easy for me to look at the state of our nation and the world and get lost in anger and helplessness.

To fight this, I’ve been turning my focus to the work that’s right in front of me, and realizing what a gift it is. While gardening, mothering, and homesteading might not obviously be combating the larger issues spiraling around us, it is the work set before me at this time. It is good work. And it is a gift.

What a gift to stay home and use my time and energy to make nourishing meals and a peaceful sanctuary for any and all who walk through our door. What a gift to dig the dark earth and work with it to produce food for my family. What a gift to walk alongside my husband and nurture these two souls, readying them to fight dragons. May they be as joyfully defiant in the face of evil as the almond blossoms in the face of the storms.

What a gift.

For the first time in 2025, we are nearing a semblance of our normal routine. The kids still have stuffy noses and my dad and I are finishing our rounds of antibiotics, but we are regaining our full energy and health.

The TV has been on way too much as a matter of survival, and my reading and making habits sadly declined as I spent most of my limited free time napping or scrolling Instagram. Now that we’ve mostly recovered, we’re finally reinstating healthy boundaries around screen time. I also plan to delete Instagram and Facebook for Lent! Little steps towards being more intentional with our time.

We did have an exciting weekend, however. Jake and I were on our way to a breakfast date for my birthday/Valentine’s Day…and we ended up turning around on a highway to save a dog instead.

Jake snapped these pictures of me, his crazy wife, wading through and around a drainage ditch to get to him. The poor little guy was soaked and shivering, and had a few puncture wounds that looked like they may have come from a coyote attack. I wrapped him in a blanket and we took him home to clean his wounds and give him some food.

We were going to try to drop him at a shelter…but he’s so sweet and gets along so well with all the other animals and kids, he’s made himself right at home with us. We still are going to see if he’s got a microchip and see if anyone’s reported him missing or is looking for him at shelters — but given his state, we think he was probably abandoned.

So, his name is now Felix (from the Latin word for lucky). We aren’t sure what type of dog he is: he’s small and long and coarse haired, and seems like he might be a terrier. He’s staying days at our house and nights at my parents’ house, given they have room for a kennel. Michael especially loves helping “take care of Felix”. And everyone else is absolutely smitten, whether they’d admit it or not.

Almost all of our pets have been ones that either turn up on our doorstep or we rescue from peril, and they all come to us at just the right time. Our beloved Bandit passed away a while ago, and now it looks like Felix is here to join our little homestead.

It reminds me of a scene from one of my favorite books, Madeline L’Engle’s A Swiftly Tilting Planet.

“Aren’t you going to get another dog?”

“Eventually. The right one hasn’t turned up yet.”

“Couldn’t you go look for a dog?”

Mr. Murry looked up from the tesseract. “Our dogs usually come to us.”

Our little Beatrice is 11 months old, and her personality is bubbly and vibrant. She won’t take any crap from her older brother and shrieks to make sure he knows it. She still isn’t walking — she has taken steps here and there, but still prefers crawling. She has learned how to climb up on chairs, couches, and even the little table — usually she does so with a triumphant crow.

She stands by herself often and uses the little chairs as walkers around the kitchen too. Her favorite game is “bonk”, very much like Michael at this age: she gently touches her forehead to your forehead and waits for you to say “bonk” — then giggles and repeats. She loves banana, ground beef, and anything her brother is eating.

Michael is growing up so quickly. We’ve been reading longer books together, and right now he loves Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, as well as a handful of fairy tales like Jan Brett’s Goldilocks and the Three Bears and Trina Schart Hymen’s Little Red Riding Hood. He enjoys making “packages” of magnatiles and playing mailman, and his newest game is “Cookie Factory”, where he pretends his bedroom is a cookie factory.

We celebrated my birthday earlier this month in a quiet way, given everyone was still recovering from illness. It was a lovely day, despite being sick and our plans changing last minute. Jake got me beautiful flowers and a book I’d been wanting, as well as a new e-spinner for plying my yarn. My mom made me a delicious London Fog cake. I felt very loved. As a stay-at-home-mom it’s easy to feel isolated from most of the world, especially in the midst of these crazy illnesses. I’m very grateful to everyone who reached out to wish me many happy returns.

I finished plying that handspun yarn I wrote about in my last post, and fell in love with it so much that I cast on a Traveler Cowl with it immediately, before it even fully dried (though I don’t recommend doing that).

I also finished a quick worsted weight spin from a rustic Romney wool that will eventually become another hat for Michael. It was a bit rough — I’m not very good at chain-plying yet — but I still love the colors and it’s still knittable.

I’ve been knitting a lot but haven’t finished anything: lots of bouncing between projects depending on my energy levels. My handspun Traveler cowl is growing well and I love the shifting colors. It’s nice and lightweight, so I’ll be able to wear it in the spring when I finish it. To cope with being down with the flu last week, I cast on another sweater — the Ranunculus sweater. I’m knitting it out of a cotton/linen yarn and going to make it short sleeved, so I can wear it this summer.

I’ve been spending a lot more of my free time writing, which has been a huge blessing to me. I finished a short story and I’m working on another. I’m also reading the Westmark trilogy by Lloyd Alexander, Jade City by Fonda Lee, and a collection of essays by Peter Maurin (who worked closely with Dorothy Day).

I feel like I’m slowly getting my spark back after the ultra-marathon of pregnancy and postpartum. Even though we’re still not sleeping through the night, both Michael’s and Bea’s sleeping habits have gotten a little better and Bea’s nursing less and less. The illness is abating, the sun is shining more frequently, and we made some choices to lighten the stress on our family — both Jake and I finally feel as though we’re shifting out of survival mode.

The daffodils are starting to pop up in my flower garden: little yellow buds of hope amongst the weeds of my overrun garden. There’s so much to do to maintain our little homestead it can feel overwhelming, but I’m grateful for the good work that lies ahead of us as we prepare for spring and for Lent — both manual labor and spiritual labor.

There is much that is heavy and despairing in the world. But I see Felix’s grateful puppy eyes, and hear the giggles of my babies playing together, and I’m reminded that there’s so much good, too. Children, puppies, flowers; sunsets. And the daffodils that pop up year after year.

It feels like every day in January dragged its feet, drawing the month out longer and longer. It’s felt eternal: partially due to the things happening in the world around us, partially due to the illness that keeps cycling through our house. Currently, Beatrice is fighting something suspiciously close to croup, and I’m trying to get rid of an eternal sore throat/cough that has kept coming back since late November. Praying February finds us all in better health.

But in spite of the illnesses and different stresses of life, there have been many joyful moments and much to be grateful for. Michael turned 3 years old this month, and I can’t believe how grown up he is already. He’s a blazing comet of light and joy in our lives. He loves helping me bake (and sneaking nibbles at every chance) and insisted on helping bake his birthday cake. I decorated it when he was distracted by Blue’s Clues, so he was happily surprised at dinner.

I was pretty sick on his actual birthday so we didn’t have a party, but I still wanted to make his birthday cake special. I’m no baker, but I managed to make something I thought was pretty fun thanks to a few ideas on Pinterest. He absolutely loved it.

Beatrice is nearly ready to transition from crib to floor bed, so we rearranged Michael’s room in preparation for her to move in. It’s wonderfully spacious and airy. He loves sleeping on the top bunk and calls it his “double decker bus bed”. We have a few more projects we want to do in his room, but for now it’s a delightful and whimsical haven for him and Bea to play in.

Beatrice is ten months old and has grown quite proficient in blowing spit bubbles. She still shows disdain for walking and prefers to crawl everywhere with incredible speeds. Currently because of her illness she has no voice, so her pterodactyl screech has become the sound of whistling air as she bounces up and down. But even being sick hasn’t dampened her joyful personality.

Michael has been taking a lot of walks with my parents while I take care of Bea and nap while she naps. He’s been pretty stir crazy so I’m grateful he gets the chance to let out some of that energy. Plus, the pictures my mom sends me are beautiful.

The “whys” have ramped up with a vengeance with Michael. He wants to know how everything works and the reasoning behind every decision and statement. Honestly, I thought this stage would annoy me, but I actually find it precious. We’ve had some surprising and fun conversations about everything from mice and God to gardening and babies because of his “whys”.

He also has a new game where he points and shouts “frozen!” at Jake or I and we pretend to freeze in place while he giggles uproariously. He tried to do it to his sister when she knocked over his block tower and was very upset when it didn’t work.

I’m currently in a spinning, knitting, and writing frame of mind. I knit while I’m with both of the kids during the day — it’s something easy I can do on the go that keeps my hands busy and my phone in my pocket (honestly, handicrafts have been the best in helping me keep my screen-time low). I have two shawls on the needles and a pair of mittens for Michael I just finished.

When Beatrice takes her naps, I set up a fun activity for Michael and write beside him while he plays. I’ve made some progress on two short stories and I’m hoping to finish them soon. I’ve really been enjoying writing with my LAMY Safari fountain pen — beautiful tools can transform even the most mundane tasks like making to-do lists.

Jake is fully in busy season so our evenings and weekends look a little different right now. He goes to work early and comes in for dinner, bath, and bedtime routines with the kids, then works again til late at night. So instead of us reading or watching our shows or playing cards together, I’ve been spinning while listening to audiobooks or podcasts while he works in his office or at the table.

I’m listening to both The Name of the Wind and The Eye of the World on audiobook (I find epic fantasy easier to listen to rather than read, for some reason). The podcasts I’m enjoying right now are all on YouTube: Brandon Sanderson’s SFF writing lectures he’s posting from his university classes, Andrea Mowry’s knitting podcast, and Kate at The Last Homely House’s quilting podcast.

I won’t lie, this extended time of illness has been a challenge. Life is heavy, not just for us but for everyone around us it seems. I’ve been doubling down on my simple practice of gratitude — looking for the glimmers of light when the shadows seem too great. I’m grateful for so much: friends who reach out and check in when we’re homebound, beautiful weather, good books, music, and art, toddler and baby giggles, wholesome tv shows that keep my toddler entertained while I’m sick or sleep deprived, Instant Pot dinner recipes, and the few moments of quiet Jake and I get in the evenings once the kids are asleep.

If you’re also finding the shadows to be overwhelming at times, know you’re not alone. But don’t forget that there are glimmers in the gloom, if we know where to look.